


This I Know

by idmakeitbehave



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Memory Loss, Ridiculously Mushy, Romance, like nauseatingly so :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idmakeitbehave/pseuds/idmakeitbehave
Summary: You awake in a strange, unfamiliar place. Memories dance vaguely in your mind- a blurred silhouette, the faint scent of vanilla and old books, music playing softly in the background. Nothing clear, nothing certain. Who is this stranger with the bright hazel eyes? And why do you feel as though you know him?
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, The BAU Team & Reader
Comments: 85
Kudos: 424





	1. Chapter 1

_*beep beep beep beep beep*_

The rhythmic droning of beeps was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. You groggily blinked the sleep out of your eyes. How did you get here? And… where exactly was here?

The fluorescent lights were almost blinding and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust. You could just make out a monitor to your right, the source of the steady beeping. As you shifted, you winced at the slight pull on your hand- an IV was taped to it. A hospital. Alright, that mystery was settled at least. 

You tried desperately to remember how you got there, but your mind was blank. Vague memories pushed at the horizon- a blurred silhouette, the faint scent of vanilla and old books, music playing softly in the background. Nothing clear, nothing certain. 

The last solid memory you had was staring out of your kitchen window, holding your cup of coffee and watching the hot summer sun rise. But now you turned to look out of the hospital window and there was no sun. The sky was white, snowflakes dancing across it. 

The monitor started beeping faster as you panicked to put together what this realization meant. What it had to mean. Something awful had happened. It obviously wasn’t snowing in July in Georgia. So where were you? _When_ were you? 

There was a shuffling at the door and a doctor hurried in, smiling brightly at you. “Oh, it’s so good to see you awake.” 

You pulled yourself up, groaning at the strain. “Where am I? What happened?” Your voice was raspy from disuse, the words barely audible.

“You’re at the hospital in Quantico. There was an incident at work and you suffered from some substantial head trauma. Can you tell me your name and the date?” 

You stared at the doctor blankly for a moment before responding, first telling him your name. “And it’s… well, that’s the problem. I remember it being July, but it’s snowing, so that’s obviously wrong. And I remember being in Georgia, but somehow I’m in Virginia?” 

“July of what year?” The doctor’s quiet question shocked you and your eyes widened at him. 

“2008?” Your answer was a whisper, the uncertainty lacing your voice.

“I’m sorry, but it’s November 2nd, 2010.” 

The look of sympathy on his face caught you off guard and the beeping besides you quickened again. You looked around the room wildly, attempting to take in the impossible information he had just given you. Two years? You had lost two years of your life? This had to be a mistake. This could not be happening to you. Your vision started blurring, the room in front of you swimming. Hot, panicked tears ran down your cheeks as you attempted to take in shallow breaths. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” the doctor spoke soothingly as he adjusted your medication. “I’m just going to give you a mild sedative to help you calm down. Take a deep breath, as deep as you can.” 

The drugs were fast, and the beeping slowed down again. You took a measured breath in through your nose, exhaling slowly through your mouth. A warm haze washed over you and you looked back at the doctor, asking him the same question as before. “What happened to me?”

“You have amnesia from your head trauma. I know it’s a lot to take in, but from your scans it does look like it will only be temporary. With support from your loved ones and some techniques for recall, you should be able to regain most, if not all, of your lost memories.” 

You nodded shakily, trying to wrap your mind around all of this. Loved ones. Loved ones? _Who_? The last you had seen of your family had been three years ago- well, apparently five years ago. “I’m in Quantico?” 

The doctor nodded. “Yes, you live and work here. I’m afraid I can’t help to fill in the gaps beyond that, but your friends have been here for the majority of the past week, so I’m sure they will be able to help you out.”

Friends. Okay, you had friends. You almost laughed at the stupidity of that small thought. But, it was slightly reassuring to know that you weren’t alone here- wherever here might be. Home, you supposed. Your home. The idea was unfamiliar, strange even. You had a job- apparently a dangerous one at that, a house, friends who visited you while you were unconscious in the hospital for a week. That gave you the smallest bit of hope. 

“I have to go finish my rounds, but we’ve contacted your emergency contact to let him know that you’re awake. He should be here shortly. Just push the call button here if you need anything and one of the nurses will help you out.”

You murmured your quiet thanks as he left the room, your mind reeling. There wasn’t much else you could do, confined to this tiny hospital bed. You leaned back, willing yourself to relax as much as possible. Eventually you succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, drifting off to sleep, dreams laden with vaguely familiar shapes and faraway voices just out of your reach. 

The sound of footsteps woke you up again, and you struggled to remember where you were in your daze. The hospital. Quantico. You reminded yourself firmly of the facts, trying to ground yourself.

A figure lingered in the doorway, coming into focus as you rubbed your eyes wearily. The figure- it was a man, a tall, lanky man- moved closer to you, sinking into the chair beside you. 

You studied his face for a second. He was handsome, a strong jawline and striking hazel eyes hidden partially by messy, curly hair. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake,” the man breathed out, whispering your name before leaning over you and holding your hand tightly. The touch was comforting. You detected the faintest scent of vanilla, making you almost dizzy. That smell. You remembered that smell. 

You must have been lost in thought, because the man was saying something again. You just barely caught the tail end. “We’ve missed you so much. _I’ve_ missed you so much.”

Staring at the man, you fixed your eyes on his. Your gaze was disconcerting and he squirmed in his chair for a moment. 

He said your name again, his voice a tremulous question as his eyes darted back and forth across your face. 

“I,” you started, “I’m sorry but… who are you?” 

The man’s jaw slackened, his shoulders dropping. His eyes filled with tears almost immediately as the color left his face. There was silence between the two of you, the only sound the steady beeping of the monitor beside you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, twisting in the bed to get a better look at this man. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad. I just- I don’t know you. Are you one of my friends?”

He bit his lip, a tear making its way down one of his cheeks. You felt the strangest urge to reach out and wipe the tear away. “I’m Spencer.”

“Hi Spencer,” you smiled at him, a tentative, watery smile. “You’re one of my friends?”

The man- Spencer, you reminded yourself- swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth, seemed to rethink his words, and closed it again. You looked at him quizzically and he finally answered. “I’m your boyfriend.” 

“What?” The shock was evident in your voice, though your hand tightened instinctively around his. He glanced down at the gesture, a small smile on his face. 

Spencer ran his hand through his hair, sighing shakily. His eyes met yours again and there was something strange there. You had no idea who this man was, and yet you couldn’t look away. “What do you remember?” 

You told him of your last memories, of the two lost years, and you recited the facts that the doctor had given you. His face remained pale as he listened, tears still brimming in his eyes. 

“He said- he said it probably won’t be permanent,” you murmured, looking down at your entwined hands. “I just need help remembering.”

“I can do that.” The sudden steadiness in his voice made you look up. It was the most sure you had heard him since this stranger had entered your hospital room. 

“You’d do that for me?” Your words were shaky. “Even though- even though I don’t remember you? Us?” 

Spencer smiled again, a tiny bittersweet smile. “I remember everything- enough for the both of us. And besides, I love you. I’d do anything.”

You stared at him, eyes searching his. Of all the things you had thought could happen after the impossible news from this morning, this was the last thing you had expected. This handsome stranger, his comforting touch, the familiar scent of vanilla.

The exhaustion of this unbelievable day washed over you, and your eyes felt heavy again. Your head lolled to the side, studying Spencer’s face silently. You squeezed his hand again, whispering as your eyes closed. “Please stay with me.” 

You heard his voice in the distance as you drifted off to sleep. “Always.”

* * *

_“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.”_  
_-Chuck Palahniuk_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my brain baby and i have no idea where it came from, but i hope you enjoy! also i am quite obviously not a medical professional and i have no idea how amnesia works aside from what you can find on google, so do not trust me xoxo

You awoke alone, the morning light shining through the window. The snow from yesterday covered the outside world and created an idyllic, peaceful scene. You glanced at the chair that Spencer had been sitting in last night. His messenger bag lay there and you breathed a sigh of relief. He was still here.

You weren’t sure why you felt this strongly about this stranger staying with you. Something about the way he looked at you, the way his hand felt in yours. 

There was whispering outside of your hospital room, two voices speaking quietly amongst themselves. You could tell that one was Spencer, but the other was higher, a woman’s voice talking rapidly. 

“Spencer?” you called weakly, desperate to know what was going on. His head came into view around the doorframe and he waved at you awkwardly. “Spence?” His eyes brightened when you said that, and oh, how you longed to keep that look on his face forever. 

“Good morning,” he murmured, stepping into the room. He wore the same cardigan as yesterday, though it was rumpled now, and his hair stood out at wild angles. You felt that same unfamiliar urge to reach out and touch him, to smooth down his curls. 

“ _Spencer!_ ” hissed the second voice that you had heard from the hallway.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a nurse?”

“Um, no,” he admitted sheepishly. “That’s Penelope. One of our friends- and our coworker. Is it alright if she comes in?”

Alright, so you worked with Spencer- and this Penelope, whoever she was. There was one tiny piece to the vast, baffling puzzle of the last two years. 

You nodded. Might as well start meeting people. It would do you absolutely no good to sit here alone and continue to freak yourself out over what had happened. 

Spencer stuck his head out into the hall, motioning for Penelope to come in. A woman in a bright yellow dress and heels walked through the doorway. Her glasses were the same shade as her clothes, and she had her hair in pigtails, wrapped with pink fuzzy hair ties. She was sunshine personified and you couldn’t help but smile at her automatically. 

“Hi,” she spoke quietly but with a patient smile as she moved to sit in the chair next to Spencer. “I’m Penelope.” 

“Hi Penelope. I’d tell you who I am, but I guess you already know.” 

Penelope nodded, her brightly colored nails gripping the bag she held in her lap. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“Honestly, it’s really good to see you too,” you replied sincerely. “Even if I have no idea why.”

Her smile grew bigger at your words and you smiled again in return. The light reflected off of one of her earrings and your eye was drawn to them. One was a painter’s palette, the other a paintbrush.

“I love your earrings,” you murmured. 

Penelope’s eyes widened, her hand reaching up to touch one of them. “You- you actually gave them to me.” Spencer grinned besides her as he looked between the two of you. 

You chuckled lowly. “I guess I have good taste.” 

“Oh that you do,” Penelope nodded eagerly in response, her blond pigtails shaking. 

You looked back down at the bag she was holding. “Whatdya got there?” 

“Oh,” Penelope exhaled. “Well, Spencer here told me that your doctor told him that pictures might be able to help you get your memories back. So I brought all of the photos I have of us, if you want to look at them. It’s okay if you don’t want to- I totally understand.” 

You looked at Spencer for reassurance, for a reason you couldn’t quite determine. He nodded encouragingly and you smiled at him. “I think that would be great, Penelope. But first, can you guys tell me what we do for work?”

Penelope’s mouth dropped open and she whacked Spencer playfully on the side of the head. “You haven’t told her, Boy Wonder?” 

“Ow!” Spencer rubbed his head dramatically, and you let out a small laugh. The noise delighted him and his eyes welled up as they met yours. You stared at each other for a moment before blinking back into reality. 

“Okay, so, we work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit- do you know what that is?” Penelope spoke patiently. 

Now it was your turn for your mouth to drop. “You’re fucking kidding me. The BAU? I got out of the Atlanta field office?” 

“Oh, did you ever. You’ve been on our team for two years- I’m sure Genius over here can give you an exact date.” 

Spencer nodded excitedly, resting his chin on his hands. “Your first day was October 21st, 2008.” 

You blinked at the two of them wildly. That was only three months from your last solid memory. How had so much changed so quickly? 

It was like Spencer could read your mind. “The position opened up on August 1st, and you interviewed with Hotch on August 22nd. The process was fairly straightforward from there and you began almost exactly two months later.”

You raised your eyebrow, looking first at Spencer then at Penelope. “How do you remember the exact dates?”

“Oh, angel, I meant genius quite literally,” Penelope laughed and Spencer’s face flushed red. “Our handsome doctor over here has a ridiculously high IQ, an eidetic memory, and an insane- and I mean insane- reading speed.” 

“Doctor? Like 1,000 words per minute?” you asked, your voice a mixture between teasing and astonishment. 

“PhD, not medical. And 20,000,” Spencer replied matter-of-factly.

“Wow,” you exhaled, “I’m dating a fucking superhero.” 

Penelope snorted at your words, and Spencer let out a quiet laugh. You looked up at him again and studied his sharp cheekbones and the soft hair that fell in his face- he really was beautiful.

“Alright, show me the pictures!” You clapped your hands and the eagerness in your voice made Spencer chuckle again. The sound was like the sweetest music you had ever heard and you again felt the strange desire to make him laugh like that forever. 

Penelope pulled a bright purple laptop out of her bag, propping it up on the side of the hospital bed. She clicked around for a second and a slideshow popped up on the screen with the words _Badass Crime Fighters_ written in curly font. “Okay, so I kinda went overboard and made a whole powerpoint…” 

“Oh, you absolute star. I love it already.” You leaned forward enthusiastically. “Alright, let me see!” 

Penelope clicked and the next slide popped up. It was a photo of you with seven people in someone’s house- or was it a mansion? You stood near the middle, Spencer’s arm wrapped around you. Your head was leaning on his shoulder and you were smiling serenely at each other, paying no mind to the camera. 

“This is the team,” Penelope explained, pointing to each person as she spoke. “That’s bossman Aaron Hotchner; our daredevil Emily Prentiss; Jennifer Jareau, but we call her JJ; then there’s you and Spencer, of course, you absolute sweethearts; my chocolate thunder Derek Morgan next to me; and our most wonderful host, David Rossi.” 

Your eyes darted across the screen, taking in each face in front of you, desperate to remember them. “You didn’t tell me being smoking hot was a prerequisite to being in the BAU.” 

Spencer let out a snort of a laugh, blowing his hair up out of his face. 

“You doubt me, Doctor?” You smirked teasingly. “Have you _looked_ in a mirror lately?”

“That’s what I keep telling him!” gushed Penelope, laughing along with you as Spencer’s cheeks turned red.

“Show me more! More beautiful people!” The thoughts were swirling in your head as you stared at the photo on the screen. This was your life? Your friends, your coworkers? Their faces were all so inviting, their smiles warm. You ached to remember them.

Penelope clicked again and the next photo slid into view. You stood with Penelope and Spencer in this one, the three of you dressed as various iterations of characters from Doctor Who- Penelope as the 11th Doctor, Spencer as the 4th, and you as the 10th. 

“Ohhh,” you cooed. “We look adorable. Spence, I love that scarf.” 

“I knitted it myself,” he admitted proudly. Penelope beamed at the two of you, smiling at the easy way you used the familiar nickname before clicking to the next picture. You stood with Penelope and the two other women from the group photo, dressed casually with drinks in your hands.

You pointed at the brunette. “Emily. And that means the other blonde is…. JJ.” 

“Yes, you got it! Gold star!”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with Penelope. Her enthusiasm was infectious. 

“This was one of our infamous girls nights. We went dancing and had _way_ too many margaritas. You had to drag us back to your apartment. I swear Emily was going to kill that guy who kept hitting on her, but then you pretended to be her girlfriend and he left.” 

Your jaw dropped. “I did- I did what?” 

Spencer smirked, nodding at Penelope. “Mhm, you came home with them and after they all passed out you woke me up with the most shameful look on your face. You scared the crap out of me and then you just blurted out, ‘I kissed Emily.’ I was so confused, but you very sloppily explained to me the creepy guy following her around and I understood exactly what you did. You always did- you always do anything for your friends. I could never be mad at that. And you were too darn cute.” 

You scoffed, feeling your cheeks burning red. “Wow, we sound crazy.”

“The best kind of crazy,” Penelope nodded. She clicked to the next slide and you let out a laugh at the photo.

A man- Derek, you thought- held you up in his arms. You had your arms spread wide, almost like jazz hands, a theatrically ecstatic look on your face. Spencer stood beside the two of you, holding your feet in his hands and pretending to groan from the strain as if he were the one lifting you up. Two older men were in the photo too, one on either side. They both had their arms crossed, stern looks on their faces as they looked at the three of you. The more severe one- Hotch?- pulled off the cross look better than the other one. The second man had a slight smirk on his face. David, you reminded yourself. Dave? Rossi? You weren’t quite sure what to call him. They seemed to use first and last names and nicknames so interchangeably that your mind swam.

Penelope clicked again and the next photo filled the screen, another group shot of the eight of you. You were all dressed professionally, except for Penelope and her hot pink dress, and the casualness of your stances and lightness of your grins contrasted with the crisp dress shirts and suit jackets. Here it was, right in front of you. Your life. The pieces were coming together, the edges of your memory still foggy but slowly gaining clarity. 

“Wow.” A tear slid down your cheek, smiling at the photo as you instinctively reached for Spencer’s hand. He was surprised by the motion, but responded easily by lacing his fingers through yours. “I- oh, wow. I really hope I remember you guys. You- you look like my family.”

“We are,” Spencer replied with absolute certainty. 

Penelope nodded again, tears welling in her eyes. “We are, sweetie. And you’ll remember us. I’m sure of it. We’ll be there every step of the way.”

* * *

_“I don't care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching--they are your family.”_  
_-Jim Butcher_


	3. Chapter 3

The snow-covered trees zoomed by, blurring in the distance. You leaned forward in the passenger seat and pressed your nose against the glass as you studied the outside world. The doctor had released you earlier that morning, expressing hopefulness at your recovery. 

Spencer was taking you home- to the apartment you shared together. You had balked at the thought at first, the notion of sharing a home you didn’t know with this man you barely knew, but you had warmed up to the idea. Just the sweet look on Spencer’s face put you at ease. If you were going to remember your life, the one you shared with him, this was a step you had to take. And oh, how you desperately wanted to remember. The hours you had spent yesterday with him and Penelope, laughing together and looking through old photographs, just strengthened that desire. 

Your life before, as you had come to think of it, had been fine, pleasant almost. You were not particularly close to your family, having cut off contact with the majority of them years ago for a handful of reasons, and you had only one or two people you would even consider friends. You had a job you thoroughly enjoyed and you were friendly enough with your coworkers, but you had never considered them more than close acquaintances. These people, the ones in the photos, they were different. You were sure of it. 

The idea of the two lost years still shook you, but the thought of these strangers, these friends, anchored you. You had the job you had so intensely wanted, you had a team that you appeared to be undeniably close with, and you had a brilliantly beautiful boyfriend who apparently loved you. What a good life to stumble into. 

Spencer parked the car and you got out, closing the door softly behind you. You stared up at the apartment building with wide eyes. “We live here?” Spencer nodded nervously, clutching your bag in his hands.

You followed him through the doorway into the apartment. The familiar scent hit you, the smell of… home? You looked around frantically, eyes trying to take in everything all at once. 

“Welcome home.” Spencer shifted from foot to foot as he watched you gazing around the apartment. You walked immediately to the large bookshelf, and he almost laughed at your predictability. 

You ran a finger along the spines of the books, noting which were familiar and which were not. There were a good deal in other languages, and you realized that they had to be Spencer’s. He really _was_ an entire genius. 

Spencer continued to observe your exploration with a small smile as he put on the kettle for tea. It looked almost like you were looking for something in particular, though he had no idea what it could be. 

You turned away from the bookshelf, looking instead at the small end table that sat besides the couch. It was a hollow, wooden thing, and you pulled the lid off almost automatically. “Aha, here!” You triumphantly pulled a thick book out from inside, a large volume of works by Edgar Allan Poe. The book was well-worn, dogeared in places with passages underlined here and there.

“How-” Spencer’s wavering voice broke you out of your trance. “How did you know that was in there?”

You looked up at him slowly, your eyes wide. “I… don’t know,” you admitted. There was a moment of silence as you stared at each other, the heavy book still in your arms. The tea kettle whistled and he turned away from you, into the kitchen. You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware that you were holding. 

This was a lot. You had no idea how to explain to Spencer that you knew the book was in there. You didn’t know why you knew, but you just did. It was like there was something deep inside of you telling you exactly where it would be. 

You set the book down, determined to return to exploring the rest of the apartment- your apartment. The rest of the living room was unfamiliar, though it captured that same homey feel. You wandered down the hallway to the bedroom and cracked open the door tentatively. Your heart caught in your chest at the large bed in the middle, clearly slept in on only one side. You supposed you had known deep down that the two of you shared a bed, but it didn’t hit you until it was right in front of you. 

The side with the rumpled blankets was Spencer’s, that much was obvious. You sat down on the edge of the bed. There it was again. Vanilla. 

You eyed the bedside table on his side. There was a framed photo of the two of you, a birthday cake in front of you. Spencer had frosting on his nose and a luminous smile. You grinned mischievously next to him, frosting on your finger as it hovered dangerously close to his face. Next to the photo sat his watch, a wallet, and a small stack of books. 

You turned to the other side of the bed- your side. Your bedside table was messier, a similar stack of books on it. There was a purple lamp, magnets attached to the base. Beside it sat a small dish of rings and earrings. You picked up the dish, thumbing through the jewelry. You recognized a few of the pieces, but there were some new ones there. A garnet ring caught your eye and you held it between your fingers, studying it. It was beautiful, a simple silver band adorned with an engraved leaf. 

“That’s from me,” Spencer spoke softly from the doorway. You turned to him and he had a small, almost nostalgic smile on his face. “Orange garnet, because we met in October. And for our shared love of fall and all things Halloween.”

“Oh man,” you exhaled. “I do love Halloween. Wow, Spence. You’re a true romantic.”

His face flushed red and he stammered a little at your words. “Tea’s ready.” 

You followed him back to the kitchen, turning side to side as you walked, trying to see everything. This was your home. You didn’t recognize it, didn’t know it, and yet somehow it just felt right. It felt right in a way that your Atlanta apartment never had. That apartment was just a place for you to keep your things, to lay your head down at night. This felt different, like it was so much more. 

Spencer motioned for you to sit down at the kitchen counter, and you perched on one of the red gingham stools there. It was adorable, exactly your taste.

He caught you looking at them. “We picked those out together at the flea market.” 

You smiled, turning your attention to the grocery list on the counter. You recognized your own handwriting, but there was another set of writing, slanted and slightly wobbly. The domesticity of a shared grocery list tugged at your heart. “Oh my god, you have genius handwriting.” 

Spencer let out a deep breath as he sat down beside you. 

“What?” 

“You- you always say that.” His eyes were watery as they met yours and you offered him a small smile. He handed you a cup of tea, warm beneath your hands. 

You recognized the mug instantly, it said _World’s Greatest Dad_ on it. “Oh wow, I still have this! This was a gift from-”

“Mia. Your best friend from the Academy.” Spencer finished for you, smiling almost apologetically at interrupting.

“Oh,” you whispered. Of course he knew that. He must know everything about you. The thought of someone knowing you so intimately unnerved you, but you took one look at his eager face and immediately felt at ease again. This was what you had always wanted, had always dreamed of. Sharing a life with somebody who accepted every part of you without reservation. 

You talked and laughed together easily over your cups of tea. Spencer told you stories that made you snort with laughter, and you loved the gleam in his eye as he watched you giggling. There it was again. That same, strange urge to keep that look on his face forever.

Day turned into night, and, after curling up in the dim light with a much-loved book, you moved to stare out the living room window, curling into the loveseat. The apartment- your apartment, you reminded yourself- was on the third floor, and you had a clear view of the night sky. 

“What are you looking at?” Spencer’s voice was soft again as he watched you gazing out the window. 

“The stars.” You shifted in your seat, making room beside you. “Do you want to sit with me?”

Spencer nodded, sitting down cautiously, trying to keep some space between the two of you on the tiny sofa. 

You turned back to look out the window. “The stars are the same. That’s what I keep reminding myself. I woke up in a different place- in a different time, for fuck’s sake. Everything about my life is different. But the stars- they’re the same stars here as they were in Georgia.” 

Spencer sighed, leaning back on the loveseat. “‘The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.’”

“Carl Sagan,” you noted with a nod. He grinned at you, nodding minutely. You stared at his face for a second, again studying his bright hazel eyes, his sharp bone structure, his cute button nose that you noticed he scrunched up from time to time. You looked at his full lips, noting that he seemed to often lick them before he spoke, his tongue darting out quickly. 

You didn’t know this man. And yet, somewhere deep down, it felt like you did. It felt like you had known him all your life. You shook your head at the impossible thought and turned your body towards him. “Can I- can I touch you?” 

Spencer swallowed, and you noted proudly how he licked his lips as he did so. You were right. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He nodded silently instead. 

You reached up your hand slowly, bringing it to rest on his cheek. He inhaled sharply at the touch, eyes closing. You traced his cheekbone with your thumb before moving your other hand to the other side of his face. The two of you sat like that for a moment, his face held in your hands. The room was silent, the air still. It felt like both of you were holding your breath. You trailed a finger down his nose and across his lips, the other hand studying his jawline. You could feel his breath on your face, the scent of vanilla intoxicatingly close. 

“You really are beautiful,” you whispered, your voice shaking. A tear slid from his eye, and you wiped it away instinctively. His eyes fluttered open, and the sudden eye contact shook you. You stared at each other as tears welled up in your own eyes. One slipped down your cheek. Spencer reached up and wiped it away, mirroring your motions. This familiar, comforting touch broke the dam, and suddenly you were sobbing.

“I- I want to remember you,” you stuttered, your breath catching in your chest. “I want to remember you more than anything.” 

Spencer began to cry harder, the tears coming fast down his cheeks. You laid your head reflexively on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close. As your sobs subsided, you felt the exhaustion wash over you. Your eyes closed as your head dropped to his chest and you curled tighter into Spencer. You felt the vaguest sensation of fingers running through your hair as you drifted off to sleep and it felt as though you had been there many times before.

* * *

_“I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes."  
-Vladimir Nabokov_


	4. Chapter 4

_July 2004_

“Remind me why the hell we decided to do this in the middle of the summer? I swear it has got to be the hottest day of the year,” you grunted, sweat dripping down your back as you weaved through the hurdles.

“Crime waits for no one,” Mia huffed as she ran alongside you. “Besides, we need to beat Gomez and his squad. Show those boys who’s boss.” 

“I already beat him in hand to hand, what more could he want?”

“I think he needs a little more ass-kicking, take him down a peg.”

A whistle sounded across the yard. “ _Ladies!_ Less chit-chat, more laps.”

You exchanged a look with Mia before dashing off to the track, her not far behind you. 

You were halfway through your tactical training at the Academy, and while it was the most difficult thing you had ever done, you had never been more motivated. After finishing your second degree, this one in Behavioral Psychology, you had been trying to plan your next move when you had seen _them._ There was a killer on the loose a town away from you, one with a penchant for young college students and ritualistic staging. You had been following the murders via the news, simultaneously worried for your own safety and fascinated by the case. A press conference caught your eye where you learned that the BAU was in town- the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had heard of them of course, who in your field hadn’t? But it wasn’t until you attended a seminar a few months later by the man you had seen on the news, Jason Gideon, that you knew. _This_ was what you were meant to do. You made it your life’s mission to get on that unit, whatever it took. 

Mia was one of the first classmates you met at the Academy, and the two of you had become friends almost instantly. You were paired up for one of the first drills, and you had both reveled in the fact of being the only all-female team to make it through. Your shared drive- that and your love for baking, musicals, and all things ghost related- had bonded you from that moment on. You couldn’t imagine life without her.

You made it back to the dorm with Mia after a grueling day of defensive drills and scenarios, both drained. Flopping onto the floor beside you, she let out an exhale. “What. the. hell.”

You smirked at the way she had her arm dramatically across her forehead, her legs sticking up on the side of her bed. The feeling was completely mutual.

She propped herself up on her elbow, wiping her hair out of her face. “Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Obviously, Mee.” 

“You don’t _look_ exhausted. You look… psychotic.”

You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “If you’re trying to profile me, I think you might be way off.” 

“Hey now,” Mia snickered, kicking you lightly in the shin. “You’re the one who wants to be a profiler. I just want to be on the good old goon squad, busting down doors and shit. I don’t need to know anything about that psychosis crap. But either way you look psychotic.”

You looked down at your sweaty outfit, covered with grass, mud, and other various stains from the day. There was a tear in your pants from when you had tackled the mock-unsub and single-handedly taken him down during a drill, much to Gomez’s dismay. You could feel your hair matted with mud from the takedown, and you saw yourself through Mia’s eyes. The bright smile on your face definitely didn’t match just how beat up and worn out you looked, but you couldn’t seem to keep it off your face. 

“I’m just happy, Mee. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.” 

“You’re gonna do great things, buttercup.” Mia lifted a fist out to you, dramatically sighing with the effort. 

You bumped it with yours, that same grin still on your face. “We both are.”

* * *

_Present Day_

You pressed yourself into the corner of your room, arms wrapped tightly around your legs. You could feel a panic attack coming on- your breath was coming out ragged and your vision was blurring. The events of the past few days had finally caught up to you. The compartmentalization that you so often used when things went wrong was failing you. This was just too much, more wild than you had ever had to deal with before. 

What was real? Did you even know anymore? More to the point- would you ever know? The possibility that you might never remember threatened to suffocate you.

Spencer came back into the room, taking one look at you and dropping to the floor beside you. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

You started to shake, your chest heaving as you sobbed. “I can’t breathe, Spence. I-I can’t breathe. It hurts.” Hot tears ran down your face and you felt a warm hand on your cheek. 

Spencer whispered your name at first before repeating it more forcefully, turning your face towards him. “Look at me.” 

You were looking right at Spencer, but it was hard to make out his features, your vision still swimming. “It hurts,” you whispered, still gasping for air.

“You’re having a panic attack,” Spencer murmured. “You’re safe, you’re here in our apartment. You’re with me.” He meant well, of course he did, and you were sure that he had used the same words to ground you before, but given the current circumstances, it did little to help you. 

“I-I don’t _know_ you,” you cried, the thought just serving to panic you more. “I don’t know anything.” 

A look of anguish flashed through his eyes, but he concealed it it quickly- too quickly for it to be anything but forced, practiced even. “Can you breathe with me? Take a deep breath.” He counted to five, breathing in deeply and motioning for you to do the same. 

You took a shaky breath, your hand gripping the one that Spencer held on your face. You were squeezing it so hard that you were sure he must be in pain, but he made no move to remove his hand from your grasp. He repeated the breaths in and out, and you mirrored him as you tried to control your breathing. 

Spencer wiped the tears from your face as you hiccuped, choking back a sob. “What do you need?”

“I need space,” you gasped, “I need Mee.” 

Spencer nodded, handing you your phone from the bedside table. “Take another breath, angel. Call her. I’ll be right outside.” 

You grabbed your phone from him and nodded your thanks, your breaths slowly becoming steady. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading towards the bedroom door. You smiled weakly as he closed the door before dialing a number you had known by heart for the last six years.

 _“Oh buttercup, I’m so glad to hear from you.”_ The familiar voice on the other end was so immediately comforting, you heaved a sigh of relief, your arms finally relaxing around your legs.

“Mee,” you cried. “Mee, thank god.” 

“ _Spencer told me what happened, I was so worried about you. I’m sorry I haven’t called, I wanted to give you your space until you were ready. How are you doing?”_

“You know Spencer?” 

You hadn’t even considered the possibility, these two worlds colliding. They felt like entirely different universes. This somehow made it seem more real. If Mia knew Spencer, it was real. You desperately wanted it to be real. You _needed_ it to be.

Mia let out a sad laugh. “ _Of course. You haven’t stopped talking about that boy since the day you met him. I had to meet him to give my approval, obviously.”_

“Oh Mee, it’s so good to hear your voice. I can’t believe this is happening. What the _hell_ is happening?!” You paused, considering the distance of the past two years. “We’re still friends, right? We still talk? I will never forgive myself if we’re not still friends.”

She scoffed. “ _Hey now, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. I’m still in the LA field office though, so we don’t see each other very often. But we talk on the phone at least every week. And we visit when we can- I met Spencer one of my first trips out there, right after you started dating.”_

“God. I wish- I wish I remembered anything.”

What had it been like- two of your favorite people meeting? You liked to imagine that it was wonderful, that Mia and Spencer had gotten along straight away. What if you never knew?

“ _I know, it’s gotta be a lot. I can’t even begin to imagine. But hey- Spencer said you were being your usual badass self when it happened. Not that that surprises me in the least.”_

“He said that?”

_“Not in so many words, but we all know you’re a badass. Always have been.”_

It only took a few minutes of talking with Mia for you to be able to calm down completely, and the two of you talked for the better part of an hour, laughing over tales of the Academy and your time together. Mia told you a little bit about what had been happening the last two years, but you were grateful that she kept bringing it back to a time you remembered- a time you knew. The comfort of talking to someone you knew, someone you actually, truly knew, was like no other. You could have cried from the sheer relief of it. 

There was a pause before you spoke again. “Mee? Am I happy? Here, with Spencer? In this life?”

The laugh on the other end was joyous. _“Of course, buttercup. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happier- even that time you kicked Gomez’s ass.”_

* * *

_“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”  
-Jane Austen _


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you sure about this?” Spencer asked you again, this time as the doorbell rang. 

“Spence,” you smiled, “yes. And they’re here already, I think it’d be too late to cancel anyway.” 

The team- your team- was coming over for dinner. It had been Penelope’s idea, and though both she and Spencer had stated repeatedly that you didn’t have to do it if you didn’t want to or if it was too soon, you were excited. This was your life, your people. You had spent the last few days in the apartment with Spencer, going through your things and looking at the slideshow that Penelope had emailed you. You had stared at that first picture- the group shot in the mansion- for a long time that morning, desperate to memorize their faces. These people were real. They were real, they were your people, and they were about to be in your apartment. 

Spencer had left to let the guests in, and you heard voices drifting up the stairwell. You smoothed out your outfit anxiously, tucking your hair behind your ear. The door clicked open and you took a deep breath. Spencer entered, followed by Penelope, then the six other people that you recognized from the photos. 

“Hello,” you waved awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. 

Everyone smiled brightly at you, and Penelope rushed to give you a tight hug. “Hi sugar,” she whispered in your ear.

Spencer motioned for everyone to move to the living room, and you sat in the loveseat next to him. The warmth of his body beside you brought you comfort. You were nervous. You knew that you knew these people, that they were your friends, but the thoughts still tugged at you. What if they didn’t like you? What if you couldn’t remember them? What would you do then?

“How about we start with names?” Penelope suggested softly, a warm smile on her face. 

“Wait, don’t tell me!” you interjected, earning a laugh from the group. Their faces had been cautious, sad almost, but they all smiled at your words. You turned to the right of you, your finger pointing at the person nearest you and Spencer. “You’re the owner of that brilliant mansion. World-famous author, David Rossi.” 

The man chuckled at your words, arching an eyebrow good naturedly. “I don’t know if I’d say world-famous.” 

You waved your hand at him, and the brunette beside him snorted. “And you’re Emily Prentiss. I’m told we’ve kissed before.”

Now it was Rossi’s turn to snort, and Emily’s cheeks turned beet red. “Of all the things you tell her,” she muttered to Penelope, a mischievous grin on the blonde’s face. 

“I know Penelope, of course,” you continued. “Well, I don’t  _ know  _ her, know her, but… whatever, you guys get it.” You turned to the next person in the circle. “And you- serious face, still dressed in a suit. You must be Aaron Hotchner. Or Hotch, apparently.” 

Hotch smiled, the hardened features on his face softening. He was a lovely man, you decided right then and there. 

The woman beside him laughed and you pointed at her next. “Blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes. You’re Jennifer Jareau. JJ.” She nodded, smiling brightly. 

You turned to the last person in the group. He was sitting on the other side of you and Spencer, and there was a sad sort of look in his eyes. “Hm, incredible eyebrows, beautiful face. You must be Penelope’s chocolate thunder. Derek Morgan.” He finally smiled, though it still didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Your words quieted the room, a hush falling over the group. 

“What?” Derek’s voice cracked as he looked at you. The rest of the team’s eyes were wide. 

Your hands shook as you spoke, but your words were certain. “You were there, right?”

Derek looked at you with sad puppy dog eyes, his mouth dropping open. He nodded minutely.

“I don’t know you, but I’m still a profiler, right?” you laughed dryly. “You were there when it happened. But it’s not your fault.” You reached over and grabbed Derek’s large hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you gratefully, squeezing your hand in return. 

You looked back up at the group, turning from face to face. Several of them stared at you with watery eyes, and Rossi grinned like he knew something they didn’t. 

“I’m so glad to meet- well, not meet… I’m just so glad you’re all here.” 

You laughed and talked with the team effortlessly. They told you more stories and you were able to tie some of them to the pictures from Penelope’s slideshow. When it was time for dinner, you all moved to the kitchen. The middle leaf of the kitchen table had been pulled out to make room for the eight of you, and you gathered around. You looked like a family, you realized. A mismatched, perfect family.

Rossi brought out a covered dish, placing it in the middle of the table next to several others that the team had brought.

“Why do I feel like you make a mean carbonara?” you asked him with a grin.

He shrugged in response, smiling back at you. “I’m Italian.” You could tell from the look on Spencer’s face that your words had meant something more to him, but you decided to let it go for the moment. 

Hotch passed around plates, and you all filled yours with the various foods on the table. Everything was delicious and homemade, and you could tell that the hot pink cupcakes covered in edible glitter on the kitchen counter were Penelope’s contribution. 

“Pretty Boy, pass the pasta,” Derek teased, looking at Spencer.

“He really  _ is  _ pretty,” you breathed out, only realizing you had said it out loud when you heard laughter coming from JJ and Emily. Even Hotch grinned broadly, chuckling. 

You listened more than you talked as everyone ate, laughing along at the stories they continued to tell. There were moments where one of them would say something and look at you for recognition or to tell your part of the story, and your silence would throw them off. Those moments were the worst. They reminded you exactly of what had happened, of what you were missing. 

You didn’t like the sad looks on their faces when you didn’t understand what they were talking about, so you made an effort to get to know each person. You asked them questions about themselves, about your work together. They all sounded so fun, and they were so beautiful- inside and out. 

Emily had just finished telling you about how she ended up naming her cat Sergio when you turned to look at Derek suddenly. “Clooney.” Another hush fell over the room at your words, forks stilling between plates and mouths. 

Derek looked at you with the same wide eyes as before. “What?” 

You closed your eyes and an image came to you- a memory? Soft black and brown fur, warm puppy breath on your skin. Paws jumping on you, Derek’s voice in the distance. 

When you opened your eyes, you inhaled sharply as you looked around the room at the shock on everyone’s faces. “You have a dog. Clooney. He’s a big dog- a German Shepherd?

“How do you know that?” JJ whispered.

“I- I don’t know,” you admitted apologetically. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just know. It keeps happening. Nothing super concrete, but then all of a sudden there’s something there. It’s like it’s just out of reach, but if I close my eyes I can almost grasp it.” 

Tears blurred your vision suddenly and you were crying before you even realized it. Everyone looked at you patiently, some of their eyes watering to match yours. Spencer reached over and gripped your hand reassuringly. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed. “I just- I just want to remember you all. So much. You’re all so lovely.” Penelope and JJ began to cry openly at that, and you noted Hotch’s eyes shining at you. Somehow you knew that that small show of emotion meant the world coming from him. 

The night came to an end slowly, and you gave each member of the team a hug as they left. Their embraces were warm and reassuring and you smiled deeply. You waved goodbye to the last person before closing the door, locking it behind you. When you turned back to the apartment, Spencer was staring at you with something like wonder in his eyes.

“What is it?” you asked nervously, smoothing back your hair. 

“Nothing,” he stammered. “You’re just- you’re just you.”

You grinned at his words before moving to the loveseat by the window. Spencer followed you tentatively, hovering. You patted the space next to you and he sat down, a bit closer than he had sat previously. The large Poe book was still sitting on the table besides the sofa and you picked it up, flipping it open. You handed it to Spencer, a question on your face. “Can you read to me?”

Spencer smiled a tiny smile, his eyes beaming as he nodded at you. “It was many and many a year ago,” he began. His voice was soft and soothing and it felt as though he had read to you many times before. You sank into the sofa, resting your head on his shoulder. He ran his finger down the page as he read and your eyes followed his hand. 

He finished reading and you sat up to look at him. “What are you thinking?” he asked softly. 

“There’s a poem. More like prose, I guess.  _ Lullabies.  _ It’s by Lang Leav,” you started. Spencer looked at you quizzically, his eyebrow raised, urging you to continue. 

“‘I barely know you, she says,’” you began to recite, “‘voice heavy with sleep. I don’t know your favorite color or how you like your coffee. What keeps you up at night or the lullabies that sing you to sleep. I don’t know a thing about the first girl you loved, why you stopped loving her or why you still do. I don’t know how many millions of cells you are made of and if they have any idea they are part of something so beautiful and unimaginably perfect. I may not have a clue about any of these things but this- she places her hand on his chest-’” you paused, mirroring the words and moving your hand to Spencer’s chest, his heart fluttering rapidly under your touch, “‘- _ this,  _ I know.’” 

There was a lull of silence before Spencer spoke, his voice wavering. “You.”

“What?”

“It’s you. You’re the first girl I loved. And I have never stopped loving you.” 

You looked up at him again, and there were tears in his eyes. One made its way down his cheek and you reached up automatically to wipe it away. “Purple. And sugar,” you said in response.

He cocked his head at you, eyes confused.

“Your favorite color is purple,” you continued. “And you like your coffee with more sugar than coffee. I don’t know why I know that, but I do.” 

Spencer let out a faint whimper at your words, the tears flowing faster. You reached your hand up, cupping the side of his face and brushing them away with your thumb. He leaned his face into your touch as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I barely know you,” you repeated quietly, “but this- this, I know.”

* * *

_ “Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?”  
-Stephanie Perkins _


	6. Chapter 6

You stood outside of JJ’s apartment with Spencer, shuffling nervously. She had invited the two of you over for dinner and you were excited to meet her son- Henry, you reminded yourself. The thought made you a little anxious. You were generally pretty good with kids, but how could Henry understand what had happened to you? You only hoped that you wouldn’t frighten him.

Quick, light footsteps sounded throughout the house. JJ’s voice called out, “Henry! Henry, wait!”

The door burst open, a little blond boy running through it. He was the spitting image of JJ and you smiled instinctively. The boy threw himself first at Spencer, wrapping his arm around Spencer’s legs. “Uncle Spencer!” he yelled, jumping up and down. It was so sweet that you could have cried.

A split second later and the little boy had his arms around your legs, sticky fingers on your dress. “Auntie!” 

You knelt down to his eye level. “Auntie?” you asked with a grin.

“Uh-huh.” Henry nodded matter-of-factly. “That’s Uncle Spencer. And you’re in love. That makes you my Auntie.” 

Your eyes welled with tears and you pulled the boy into a tight hug. You loved him instantly.

JJ stood in the doorway, smiling apologetically. A man stood beside her- her husband. He saw you looking at him and stuck out his hand. “I’m Will.” His accent was sweet and you liked him immediately.

“Nice to meet- uh, to see you?” 

Will nodded with a laugh, and you were once again so grateful to know so many incredibly gracious people. You doubted most people would be able to deal with this situation- your situation- the way that they all did. 

There was a tug on your dress and you saw Henry looking up at you. “Mommy and Daddy said you forgot some things."

JJ put her hand on his shoulder. “Henry, let’s let them come inside.”

You stepped into the living room with Spencer before kneeling back down to Henry’s level. “That’s right, Henry. So I need some help remembering.”

His little blue eyes lit up. “I can do that!”

“I know you can,” you chuckled. “Now how about we go find Sasha?” There was a soft gasp behind you, and you turned to see JJ and Spencer staring at you with wide eyes. “Sasha the lion, right?” 

JJ merely nodded, not asking you how you knew. She knew you wouldn’t be able to explain it. Some mysteries were just incomprehensible. 

Henry dragged you and Spencer into his room, insisting that you sit on the floor and play with him. The two of you giggled as Spencer perched a tiny crown on his head. He stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes and both you and Henry erupted into fits of laughter. 

When Henry caught his breath, he turned to you. “Uncle Spencer is the best.”

You nodded, glancing at Spencer. “He’s the best man I know.”

After dinner it grew late, and JJ brought Henry upstairs to tuck him into bed. You hugged him goodnight, so grateful for this little boy that you didn’t entirely know, but knew you loved with your whole heart.

The four of you settled in the living room, glasses of wine in hand. JJ and Spencer were telling Will some story from work, and there was a moment when they looked at you to see if there was any recognition, but you felt none, just a sudden panic. 

The noise they made when you remembered- you couldn’t decide which was worse: that or the face they made when you _didn’t_ remember. It was getting harder to tell story from memory. Did you really remember something, or was it just wishful thinking backed by the stories they told you or the pictures you saw?

The room was suddenly hot- too hot. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. The weight of all these expectations, all these hopes. What if you let them all down? What if you let Spencer down?

Tears began to sting your eyes and you gulped down a breath. Spencer and JJ turned back to look at you and their looks of concern just pushed you further. “I need some air,” you choked out.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked as JJ said, “Are you okay?”

You managed a small smile that felt fake even to you and nodded. “Mhm. I’m fine. My head’s just swimming. Can I take the car?” You could see the confusion on Spencer’s face, but you made no move to explain. You weren’t sure that you could. He stammered his agreement, JJ promising to give him a ride home.

“I’ll be home in a few hours,” you called to him over your shoulder as you hurried to the door. 

Spencer stood to follow you, but you saw JJ reach for his arm. “Spence, let her go.”

The door clicked shut behind you and you let out a gasp, desperately trying to take in the fresh air. These people, these places, these stories. Were they memories? Were they yours? Would they ever feel whole again? The thought that _you_ would never feel whole again consumed you. Could they live with that? Could you?

You cursed yourself for whatever incident had gotten you into this mess- the team refused to give you any real details, just saying that it was an unsub on a case. Whoever robbed you of this life, however, you would love the chance to punch in the face, just once. Maybe twice. One for each lost year? You laughed at the thought despite yourself, a dry, humorless laugh.

You didn’t leave with a destination in mind, but you found yourself driving with determination. Muscle memory, you realized. When you pulled into the long driveway, the sun had already set. There was an instant where you contemplated turning around, but where would you go? You couldn’t go back to JJ’s- back to those awkward pauses and saddened looks. And you didn’t want to go home, to that apartment that felt like a distant memory of a home.

The doorbell rang loudly, but it was only a moment before the lock clicked. “Ah,” Rossi exhaled as he opened the door, “I had a feeling I’d be seeing you.”

You stared at him, simultaneously shocked and relieved at the lack of surprise on his face. Low jazz music sounded throughout the house as he ushered you into the living room. He raised a finger at you. “Just a moment.” When he returned, he held two glasses and a bottle of whisky in his hands. He poured the liquor, handing you a glass.

You took a sip before sighing and leaning back into your chair. “How’d you know I’d come here?” you finally spoke.

“Call it premonition,” he smirked. “Or just the feeling that you needed someone to talk to with no expectations.”

You stared at him again. He was absolutely spot on, but how? And how would he have no expectations? The rest of your team managed them pretty well, especially being profilers, but you could pick up on their hopes and their disappointments. You could _read_ them you realized. You didn’t know if that meant you knew them, or you were just good at your job. 

“I see I’ve hit a nerve,” Rossi noted, sipping his whisky with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, first of all, you have got to be a wizard or something,” you laughed. “Second of all... you’re right. I was at JJ’s with Spencer and I just- I couldn’t breathe.” 

He was quiet, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s like- I don’t know how to explain it. My thoughts are just all jumbled up. Every time I remember something and I hear that gasp from someone, or every time I _don’t_ remember something and they look like I just kicked their damn puppy…” 

Rossi let out a chuckle. “It’s a lot.” 

“Understatement of the year,” you huffed, taking another long swig from your glass. You paused. “Why don’t you look at me like that?” You thought back to that night everyone came to your apartment and the look on Rossi’s face while everyone else had been close to tears.

He shrugged. “I figure when you know, you’ll know. And I know you, kid. You’ll know.”

You blinked back sudden tears at his assuredness. “But what if I never know?”

“Come on now, don’t give me that crap. Can you honestly tell me there’s nothing there?” 

“Of course it’s not nothing. There’s bits and pieces. It’s just hard to put together.”

“Maybe that’s because of all the background noise.” He stood, refilling your glass. “Let’s try something. Close your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Come on, Rossi. You’re not seriously going to try a cognitive interview on me.” 

“Oh, yes, I am,” he quipped back. “Humor me.”

“You’re not going to take me back to… that night?” your voice trailed off as you spoke. You wanted to know what happened, to remember, but did you really? What good would that do? 

Rossi shook his head. “No, I thought we’d do something a little more fun.” He set his glass down, leaning towards you. “Okay, now close your eyes- and I mean it.” 

You let out a huff of air before obliging. “Aye aye, captain.”

“Alright,” he began. “Just listen to my voice and breathe. You’ve been to the office, right?”

You nodded. Spencer had taken you there to pick some things up and to talk to Hotch- it was a bit messy trying to figure out when you could come back to work, to say the least.

“Okay, I want you to picture yourself in the elevator. You’re alone this time. You haven’t met the team yet. What do you hear? What are you thinking?”

You let out a hum of noise, leaning back into the chair as you tried to place yourself there. “It’s quiet, just the sound of the elevator dinging at each floor. One person gets off the floor before me and then I’m alone. I’m nervous, but I’m excited. This is exactly what I’ve wanted for so long.”

“What else do you see? What are you wearing?”

You looked down. “A purple sweater and black dress pants. Glittery dress shoes. I remember worrying that it was too unprofessional, but then I went into the bullpen and saw Penelope. Oh! She told me she liked my shoes…” Your eyes shot open.

“Very good,” Rossi nodded. “Let’s keep going. Now, you’re back in the bullpen with Penelope. What do you see?”

There was a pause, your eyes darting around. “It’s busy, a lot of people. I can see Hotch- he’s in the office on his phone. He notices me looking and he holds up a finger, telling me to wait. I turn around, and Derek and JJ are at their desks. Emily’s sitting on JJ’s desk. They’re talking- I can’t hear it but they look happy. JJ’s trying to do paperwork, but Emily’s in the way.” You laughed to yourself at the sudden memory. 

“Anyone else?”

You had to hand it to the man. He truly exemplified the idea of no expectations, no pushing. You recentered yourself, taking in a deep breath. The noise of the bullpen came over you, the ringing of laughter. “Derek throws a ball of paper at someone. It sails past me and… oh! It hits Spencer in the head. I laughed out loud and man, his face turned _bright_ red.”

“Did you say anything?”

I shook my head. “I start to apologize, but Hotch comes out. He says something about a case and I follow everyone into the round table room. You’re already in there. Hotch introduces me to everyone and then we start talking about the case.” 

“Does anything else stand out to you?”

I paused, lost in thought. “It’s pretty much just case details, we get right into it. Oh… _oh_!”

“What is it?” Rossi asked gently.

“Spencer’s rattling off some physics facts related to the case and I say the stupidest joke I know. I go, ‘You matter- unless you multiply yourself by speed of light squared. Then you energy.’ Only Spence laughed.” You gasped, your eyes shooting open again. “That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I would love him forever.”

Rossi arched an eyebrow at you, raising his glass. “Ah, to be young and in love.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, trying to piece together what had just happened. A wave of emotions washed over you as you tried to catch your breath. You remembered. You really truly remembered the first day you met your team- your family. A tear slid down your cheek. 

“Now I hope those are happy tears.”

You nodded. “Jesus Christ, Dave. You must have been a fortune teller in a past life.”

“Or I just give a damn good cognitive interview.”

You raised your glass to that, happy tears continuing to brim in your eyes. The relief of this memory felt like a sudden weight lifted off of your shoulders, like you could finally take a full breath. Things were falling into place in a way you hadn’t been sure they would. But apparently, Rossi had known it all along.

* * *

_“To learn which questions are unanswerable, and not to answer them: this skill is most needful in times of stress and darkness.”  
-Ursula K. Le Guin _


	7. Chapter 7

_It’s dark. Dark and cold. You’re holding something out in front of you. A flashlight? No, a gun. The only noise is the sound of you breathing and a faint drip in the distance._

_You hear Derek’s voice from somewhere behind you- in your ear. You touch the side of your head instinctively- an earpiece. It takes you a moment to understand what he’s saying. Not so much saying as pleading. Begging you to wait- to wait for backup._

_You consider listening to him, but you’re already so far into the building. The warehouse basement, you somehow know. It’s empty in every corner you check. No sign of the man you’re looking for._

_Spencer’s talking to you now, telling you Derek and Hotch are almost there. His voice gives you pause, but then you hear it. A yelp of pain, a low cry. The dripping noise has gotten louder the further you walked through the basement._

_You see her- you don’t know who she is, yet you do. She’s tied to a chair in the middle of the dark room, blood dripping from her arms into pools on the floor. Her mouth is gagged but she’s staring at you with wide eyes- pleading. But why?_

_Her eyes are filled with terror and she shakes her head wildly at you. You give her your best reassuring smile as you lower your gun, opening your mouth to tell her it’s going to be okay. There’s a soft, sudden noise from behind you and as you turn towards it, everything goes black._

_There’s a ringing coming from somewhere far away. In your ears, you realize. Then- a gunshot, the sound of someone falling. The unsub? You can faintly hear Derek in the distance, calling out your name. His voice is anguished and it makes you want to cry. You try to reach out to him, to tell him you’re okay, but you can’t. There’s the dim sound of sirens, the feel of Derek’s arms around you, and then just- nothing._

* * *

You awoke with a start, hot, heavy tears falling down your face. Spencer was already up, his hand on your shoulder, trying to wake you. You must have woken him up with your twisting and turning- the sheets were bunched up between you, your fist tight around them. He murmured to you soothingly, opening his arms and letting you burrow yourself into him. His hold on you was comforting. It felt safe, it felt like home. You were getting more and more used to this, this feeling of rightness being in his arms. 

For now, you stayed with your head on his chest until you were able to catch your breath. “I- I’m sorry,” you hiccuped out, acutely aware of the tears and snot you had to be getting all over his plaid pajamas.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head in response. “You never have to be sorry for nightmares, I promise.” There was a pause, then- “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“The- the warehouse,” you stuttered. Spencer’s face went pale, his eyes widening. “She was there. The redhead. There was so much blood. I could hear Derek, but- but I didn’t listen.” 

Spencer didn’t ask how you knew this, and he didn’t refute the facts you were giving him, and for that you were grateful. He simply pulled you in close and held you. That was all you wanted- all you needed. The tears were coming down more slowly now as your breathing slowed and you attempted to put the nightmare- the memory?- out of your mind. Light spilled through the curtains and the clock read 6:33am. No use trying to go back to sleep. 

Spencer seemed to have the same thought, standing up with a stretch. He eyed you for a moment, seeming to evaluate you. “I’ll go put on some coffee- I’ll be right back.” 

You sniffled your thanks before turning to grab your phone. Spencer receded out of view down the hallway as you scrolled through your contact list. You found the number you were looking for and dialed it. He would be up, you were certain.

The ringing was gone, replaced with the distant sound of someone calling your name. You snapped back to the present, sobbing into the phone, “Derek!” 

There was a pause, a sharp inhale of breath on the other end. _“Angel, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”_

“It- it was my fault.” You weren’t sure when you had started crying again, or if you had ever stopped, but now you were gasping into the phone. “You told me to wait. You told me not to go. I didn’t listen, I should have listened. I’m so sorry.”

“ _Oh baby, no.”_ You could hear tears in Derek’s voice as he spoke. “ _No, it’s alright. We both messed up. But you’re here. You’re okay. You’re with us.”_

“I’m so sorry,” you said again, this time a whisper. Derek kept speaking, his words soft and reassuring, telling you everything was okay. You heard faint footsteps and looked up. Spencer stood in the doorway with two mugs in his hands, all sleepy eyes and ruffled hair.

“Thank you, Derek,” you murmured into the phone, “Thank you for everything.” You both said your quiet goodbyes, hanging up the phone with the shared promise to get together soon. 

Spencer sank onto the bed next to you and handed you your mug. He studied your face as you took the first sip. “This is a lot, huh?”

You knew he was talking about more than just this moment- he was talking about everything. Everything was a lot. All of these new people, these resurfacing memories that you tried so hard to grasp onto. You thought you had been handling it fairly well, all things considered, but that dream pushed you over the edge. Spencer accepted your silent nod as an answer, his free hand resting lightly on your thigh. The gentle touch anchored you. You took another sip of the coffee before leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“It feels-” you started, “It feels like this is my life. Not just like you’ve all told me that it’s my life. It actually- it feels like I was there.” 

Spencer didn’t say anything in response, but you looked up at him and noted his tiny smile and his hazel eyes beaming. All you wanted was to be able to keep that smile on his face forever. The two of you had cried enough tears for a lifetime it seemed. 

You set your mug down on the bedside table before reaching over to Spencer and enveloping him in a tight hug, your head again on his shoulder. He pulled your legs over his until you were sitting on his lap. You nuzzled your face into his neck, reaching your hand up to run through his hair. “Thank you,” you whispered, face still pressed into him. “Thank you for everything.”

“I would do- I _will_ do- anything for you.”

His certain words tugged at your heart, and you smiled softly. You hadn’t told him much about the night before, just that you had gone to Rossi’s. You didn’t know what to tell him- if you could even explain it. The weight of what you had remembered, the _feeling_ you remembered. It was still so raw, so new. You didn’t want to get his hopes up, make him think that you somehow remembered everything. You couldn’t hurt him like that- you wouldn’t hurt him like that. All you could do for now was wrap your arms around him and hold him tightly, hoping your body could tell him the things your mouth couldn’t yet say.

* * *

_“Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.”  
-Bob Dylan _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr @idmakeitbehave, i'd love to be mutuals :)
> 
> i hope you enjoy this soft, squishy chapter <3

Faint voices drifted from down the hallway. You glanced over at your clock and were surprised by how late it was- almost noon. You had always been a heavy sleeper and it was relieving to see that some things didn’t change.

You heard Spencer’s voice first. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” came the second voice. It took you a moment to place it- Emily.

“I- I just don’t know. I’ve read all the books, all of the studies. I know the numbers, but I don’t know what to do. There’s nothing I  _ can  _ do.” His voice was low, but you could hear the sadness in it. You felt almost guilty for eavesdropping, but there was nowhere you could go without interrupting this conversation, and it sounded like one that Spencer needed to have.

“I know, Reid,” Emily sighed. “You’re used to statistics, the hard and true facts. But nothing about this is typical or studiable. It’s gotta be hard operating on blind faith alone. I know it is for me.”

Spencer let out a huff of air, his voice wavering. “I love her so much. What if she doesn’t remember it? What if she never feels the same way again?” 

“She’s been remembering more and more,” Emily reminded him. “You’ve seen it- we’ve all seen it.”

“She remembers facts, people. But what about feelings?” There was a pause before Spencer spoke again. “What if she never loves me?”

A tear slipped down your cheek and you resisted the urge to run into the living room and throw your arms around him. The pure pain in his voice was heart-wrenching. 

“Have you talked to her about this?”

Spencer snuffled in response, and you could picture him sheepishly shaking his head.

“Think about it this way- would you still love her if she didn’t remember? As she is now?”

Spencer’s voice was low and steady. “Yes, always. Every lifetime.”

“Then she could love you even if she doesn’t remember. Look at that face, how could she not?” Emily teased. “But Spencer- you have got to get out of that big brain of yours. You gotta have a little faith.” 

The conversation quieted after that, turning to talk of work and the latest case that the team had been on- not that Spencer had been back with them much, aside from consulting locally. He had refused to leave your side, something you had imagined you would find constrictive but were pleasantly surprised to find comforting. Something about it just felt right. 

You waited another moment or two before leaving the bedroom, not wanting them to know how long you had been awake or how much of their conversation you had heard. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Emily laughed at the sight of your messy hair and rumpled pajamas. “Glad to see you still like to sleep until noon on your days off.”

You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms as you pretended to glower at her. “Hey, at least now I have the excuse of a traumatic brain injury.”

Emily chuckled at your derisive humor, but Spencer was quiet. You noticed now just how absolutely tired he looked. The shadows under his eyes were even more pronounced than usual and his face was pale, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Emily looked between the two of you, sending a wink your way before standing up. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.” 

The door clicked shut behind her and you made your way to Spencer, sitting beside him. He was still silent, staring at his hands. “Spence, what’s going on? Look at me.” You held his chin in your hand, gently turning his face toward yours. His tired eyes finally met yours, and you sighed at the exhaustion and sadness in them. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

He smiled weakly at the term of endearment, moving to grip your hand in his. “I haven’t really been sleeping.” 

You knew the feeling all too well, and you had the vaguest memory of sleepless nights with Spencer thrashing in the bed beside you, crying out, tears down his face. You, shaking him awake and holding him until the screaming stopped. “Have you been having nightmares again?” 

His eyes widened at your words before he shook his head. “No, I’m just- just tired.”

“Everything’s a lot,” you noted, repeating his words from a few days before. You realized that while you had been so preoccupied with everything that had been happening, Spencer had been dealing with it all silently. It was in his nature, you knew, to suffer in silence, especially if he knew someone else was dealing with worse- or what he deemed to be worse at least. But did you really have it worse than he did? You tried to picture yourself in his shoes, losing someone you loved, but not losing them completely. Just losing the memories, everything that made the two of you who you were together. If the aching emptiness you felt was any indication, what Spencer must be feeling was unimaginable. 

“Follow me.” You stood, holding your hand out to Spencer. He looked at you questioningly, but he walked with you down the hall to the bedroom. You pulled the curtains closed, shutting out the sunlight. Spencer stood in the doorway watching and you patted the side of the bed. “Sit. Wait here.” 

You walked back to the kitchen, putting on the tea kettle before pulling out a mug. You rifled through the tea drawer in search of the tea you knew Spencer loved. The thought of that knowledge tugged at you, but you shook it away. Right now was not about you. It was refreshing almost, the idea of there being someone else who was vulnerable, who needed someone to take care of them. Almost everyone had been walking on eggshells around you since you woke up in the hospital, though some of them hid it better than others.

You reentered the bedroom, closing the door behind you before handing the mug of tea to Spencer. “Your favorite. Drink up.”

He smiled a watery smile, grasping the mug in his hands and taking a tentative sip. You sat next to him in the bed, adjusting so your back rested on the headboard. Spencer pulled himself beside you, and you drew the covers up over both of your legs before pulling a pillow behind you. “It’s mid-day,” he pointed out, ever the realist.

“And we have nowhere to be and nothing to do. Perfect time to be in bed.” You reached over to your bedside table, picking up a well-worn book. “If I remember correctly- and I think I do- I always say you read too fast to truly appreciate fine literature.”

Spencer let out a huff, smiling at you. His eyes were brighter now, though the exhaustion was still visible on his face. He sipped his tea again and you leaned into him, snuggling close. You flipped open the book to a familiar passage and started to read, “Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book…” You kept your voice low, your free hand tracing circles on Spencer’s palm.

The minutes passed by slowly. When Spencer set down the empty mug, you pulled him in front of you, adjusting until he was in between your legs, his head resting back on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, the book in one hand as you continued to read. Your other hand found its way into his hair, running through the soft curls repeatedly. He let out a hum, shifting so that he was laying down, his head nuzzled between your chest and your arm. The feel of him in your arms tugged at your heart, the familiar intimacy of it incredibly comforting.

You read for a while, Spencer’s breathing growing slower and slower. When you glanced down, you could see that he had fallen asleep. Smiling, you set down the book, careful not to wake him. Your hand continued to run through his hair, not wanting to stop touching him. You couldn’t help but stare down at him, studying his long eyelashes and the peaceful expression on his face. Your heart ached for him. All you wanted- all you needed, you realized- was for him to be happy. 

You hadn’t been sure before if it were possible for a person to feel like home, but now you were more certain than ever. You held him tightly, one hand moving to stroke his cheekbone. He murmured at the touch, a sleepy smile on his lips. “I already love you,” you whispered, pressing your face into his hair as a tear slid down your cheek. 

* * *

_ “There is no pretending. I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then.”  
-Cassandra Clare _


	9. Chapter 9

“Let’s do something.”

Spencer looked up from the eggs he had been trying to cook, his tongue sticking out adorably from the concentration. “What?”

“Let’s do something,” you repeated. “Something we’ve never done before. No memories, no expectations. Something me-now and you-now.”

Spencer stared at you with wide eyes and you huffed out a laugh which only grew louder at the smell of burning plastic. “Spence- Spence! You’re melting the spatula.”

“Oh shit!” He flung the spatula away from him and it hit the counter with a whack. 

Your laughter was loud now, and you wiped tears from your eyes. “For someone with an IQ of 187, you sure can be a dingus.” 

“Oh yeah,” Spencer jested, poking you in the side. “Laugh it up.”

You let out a giggle, poking him back and snorting when he squealed. “You’re so cute.” You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him towards you. 

He was surprised by your sudden affection, but he looped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your hair. “Don’t think this means that I’m going to forget that you called me a dingus.”

“I would never!” you gasped with mock-offense.

Spencer pulled back to look at you. “What exactly did you mean by ‘let’s do something’?”

“Exactly what it sounded like.”

“Did you have something in mind?”

You paused. “I do. But I’m going to need you to confirm that we’ve never done it. I don’t think we did, but we all know I’m not the most reliable source. Anyway so, I was thinking… road trip!”

Spencer raised an eyebrow at you, a small smile on his face. “No, we haven’t done that before, but it is December-”

“I know!” you interjected, prepared to argue your case. “But I’ve thought about that. We can go to Maine, there’s these beautiful cabins in Jefferson. And it’s not supposed to snow and it’s only like 600 miles-” 

“593.”

“Okay, smartass.  _ 593  _ miles away. It would be fun!”

“I wasn’t saying no,” Spencer smirked. “You didn’t have to sell it so hard. I don’t think I could say no to you even if I wanted to.”

You wrapped him in a hug again, laughing as he held you tightly. “That is a dangerous thing to tell me, Doctor Reid.” 

The two of you spent the day planning your mini-road trip, and Spencer was not the least bit surprised to find out that you already had a destination in mind. “I may have called ahead,” you admitted with a sheepish grin. “Just in case you said yes.”

The following morning you woke him up early, and he almost laughed with joy at the absolute delight on your face. This was the happiest, most unencumbered he had seen you since before the incident. He knew right then and there that this trip had been the perfect idea.

You drove for the first leg of the trip, singing along to the playlist you had made. You were aware of the absolutely ridiculous grin on your face, but you couldn’t seem to keep it off. Everything just felt right. There was a pause in between songs, and you felt Spencer staring at you. “What? Is there something on my face?” You wiped your cheek, feeling for the offending object.

“No,” Spencer answered with a joyous laugh. “It’s just- I love seeing you this happy.”

You spared a glance at Spencer, squeezing his hand. He squeezed it back and with the familiarity of the motion you felt the floodgate of emotions open up. Happier than they had been before, for sure. Still confusing, still not completely certain, but undeniably happy. 

You felt the sudden need to explain it to him, although you weren’t quite sure you could put it into words. You pulled the car to the side of the road, putting it in park. He looked at you quizzically, opening his mouth to question you but you cut him off before he could say anything. “It’s like- I don’t remember everything, that’s for damn sure. But there are so many pieces floating around. It’s like my life is starting to take shape. And even the things I don’t remember fully just feel right. Being with you, Spence- it just feels right. It’s the most sure of anything I’ve been since I got out of the hospital. Maybe the most sure of anything I’ve  _ ever  _ been.” 

Spencer was silent and when you looked over to him, his eyes were shining with tears and he had a tremulous smile on his face. “Those better be happy tears, Spence.”

“The happiest."

The drive was only ten hours long, and while you had offered to drive the entire way, Spencer insisted on splitting it up. By the time you arrived at the cabin, you were asleep in the passenger seat. Spencer kept stealing glances at you, smiling at the way you slept, your head pressed against the window and your legs curled up under you. He left you sleeping in the car while he grabbed the keys from the main office. 

When he pulled up to your cabin and parked, he ran his hand through your hair, whispering your name. You woke up, confused for a moment, before a large grin spread across your face as you took in your surroundings. The air outside was cold, your breath visible as the two of you smiled joyfully at one another.

It was late by the time you had brought in your luggage and settled in. The cabin was warm and cozy, exactly what you had had in mind. There was a fireplace, and you squealed as you ran to it. Spencer laughed at your reaction, watching as you expertly lit a fire. 

You laid intertwined with one another on the couch for some time, just enjoying the warmth of the fire and the atmosphere of the cabin. When you glanced out the window, something outside caught your eye. 

You drew the curtains fully open and gasped. It was snowing. You tried to remember the last time you had seen snow- you had grown up in Georgia, after all. There were vague memories of snow in Quantico, you running through it with Spencer and giggling as you tossed a misshapen snowball at him. 

This memory was more sweet than bitter, and you said a silent thanks for that. The more you remembered, the more you knew that you wanted this life- that you  _ loved  _ this life. That you loved this man.

“Let’s go outside,” you insisted, pulling on your boots with dramatic enthusiasm and tying the laces swiftly.

Spencer needed no convincing. You opened the door to the cabin, laughing with delight at the fluffy snow. It was coming down fast now, and you stuck out your tongue, trying to catch the snowflakes. The woods were dark, save for the light coming from your windows. The snow glimmered as it landed, coating the trees. 

You twirled around, your arms spread wide. You spun until you were dizzy, wobbling for a moment before you felt hands on your arms steadying you. Spencer held you upright and you blinked at him, beaming. A snowflake landed on his eyelashes, and you brushed it away without hesitation.

He stared at you for a moment before taking off his purple scarf that you loved so dearly. He wrapped it loosely around you, pulling you towards him. You took another step forward, your faces dangerously close and your noses almost touching. 

Spencer hesitated, swallowing. You watched the familiar way his tongue wet his lips and smiled instinctively before closing the gap between the two of you. Your mouth met his and he let out a small gasp before reciprocating the kiss. His lips were sure against yours, and it felt as though they had been there many times before, in every different lifetime. 

Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you as physically close to him as possible. Your bodies were pressed against each other, your mouths moving together as if they needed one another to survive, the way one needs oxygen. In a way, it felt as though you truly needed him that much.

You broke off the kiss hesitantly, struggling to catch your breath. Spencer’s face was flushed and you laughed at the mess you had made of his hair. You brushed your lips against his again, this time soft and quick, before pressing a kiss to his cheek, your mouth lingering there. “I love you, Spencer Reid,” you whispered. “I really, really do.” 

When you pulled back to look at him, his eyes shone brightly at you and you wiped away the tear that was making its way down his cheek. He cupped your face in his hands, pressing another light kiss to your lips before resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too,” he murmured softly. “Always have, always will.” 

The two of you stood with your arms wrapped tightly around each other, your face buried in Spencer’s chest, as though you never wanted to let go. Snowflakes danced around you, settling on your hair and shoulders, and you were certain that you had never been happier than this moment. You were exactly where you needed to be. You were home.

* * *

_ “Remember your name. Do not lose hope-- what you seek will be found.”  
-Neil Gaiman _


	10. Chapter 10

The morning sun shone through the window, casting a soft light across the cabin bedroom. You turned towards Spencer, asleep beside you, and rested your hand on his chest, watching it rise and fall with each gentle breath.

You studied his tranquil face. The sharp jawline, the prominent cheekbones. Somehow almost two months had passed since you saw his face and had seen a stranger. A familiar, comforting stranger, but still a stranger. Now it felt as though there had never been a day that you hadn’t known him- that you hadn’t loved him.

A stray wave of hair fell in his eyes, and you pushed it back before tracing his eyebrow with your thumb. He let out a soft sigh before snuggling closer to you, his head falling onto your chest. The simple gesture warmed your heart with the familiarity. There was nothing you could think of that would be better than having every morning be like this- having the rest of your life be like this.

“Morning,” Spencer mumbled sleepily, pulling out of your reverie. He blinked up at you under his thick eyelashes and you noted how the shadows under his eyes had faded in the past few days, although you knew from experience that they would never go away completely. It seemed as though you had both reached a point where the good outweighed the bad, where the memories converged with the facts of the present day. You knew how much he had been hurting, although he had tried his best to conceal it, and it delighted you to see that pain lessening.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and he hummed contentedly, his eyes fluttering closed as a warm smile spread on his face. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“You’re in a good mood,” he noted as he reached his hand towards yours. His fingers intertwined with yours as though they were made to be there- meant to be there.

You merely nodded, pulling him closer to you. “How could I not be?”

Time passed slowly, the two of you lazing in each other’s arms as the hours ticked by. The ridiculous smiles on your faces seemed like they might be stuck there for eternity, but you decided you really didn’t mind. After all that you and Spencer had gone through, you were fairly certain you deserved this. You both did.

It was strange, this remembering business. Sometimes it came in flashes, like how you would imagine it would happen in the movies. Other times, it was more like a warm blanket enveloping your shoulders, a sudden sureness that simply felt right. That certainty was the most reassuring of all.

Once you had finally dragged yourself out of bed, you left Spencer in the kitchen with the beginnings of breakfast and fresh coffee. You made your way to your luggage, rummaging around for the one thing you had snuck with you and pulling them out with a grin.

“Ice skating,” you said definitively, setting two pairs of skates on the kitchen counter. One pair was yours, pale pink and well-worn from when you were much younger. The other pair you had bought, before the incident, on the off-chance that you would be able to use them someday.

Spencer put the coffee pot down and eyed the skates warily, raising his eyebrows at you. “Yes, those are ice skates.”

You smiled at his obliviousness, just one of the many things you found ridiculously endearing. “Don’t be thick. We’re going to _go_ ice skating, doofus!”

He blinked up at you from behind his glasses. “I’m from Las Vegas. I don’t know how to ice skate.”

“I actually knew that,” you admitted with a smirk. “If I remember correctly, we’ve discussed it. But I do. So, I’ll teach you?”

You had taken to saying ‘If I remember correctly’ every time you brought up something from the past, every time there was a new memory, however small or simple it may be. It had started as just a little habit, but now you did it on purpose. Spencer had stopped inhaling sharply at your words or widening his eyes when you brought up something that you hadn’t previously remembered. He could tell the pressure it put on you, the panic it invoked, especially after that day at JJ’s.

You knew he was taking measured steps to control his reactions. You were still a profiler, after all, and you knew Spencer better than you knew anyone else. That you knew for certain. Now, when you said that little phrase, he smiled the most perfect, content smile you had ever seen. So, you said it as often as you could, just to evoke that beautiful look on his face.

That perfect smile flashed across his face before turning into a look of half-hearted panic. He spoke quickly, his hands flying. “Forty-two percent of professional skaters have sustained acute injuries during their career. That includes fractures, abrasions, sprains, even concussions. Not to mention that there are two sharp blades just attached to your _feet_!”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not a professional skater then.”

He let out a soft _harumph_ at your sentence, sending you into a fit of giggles. You pulled him into your arms before pressing a kiss to his cheek. He leaned into your touch, and that was when you knew you had him.

After only a little more cajoling and pleading ( _“I thought you said you couldn’t say no to me!”_ ), the two of you made your way to the outdoor ice rink. You had planned this down to the last detail, and he knew it. Predictable.

Spencer swallowed, looking at the ice nervously before glancing at you. You sent him a reassuring smile, reminding him that this was supposed to be fun, not torture. “This is going to be bad,” he mumbled, lacing up his skates. “What if I fall?”

You smiled widely, ruffling his hair with your hand and earning another groan from him. “I am very sorry to say this, but you will almost certainly fall.”

He glared at you, now attempting to stand on the skates. He made it halfway up, wobbling before landing on the bench with a _plunk._

The laugh you let out only grew louder as Spencer shot another glare at you. He was as threatening as a teddy bear, and you had absolutely told him as much before. “Turn that frown upside down, mister.”

“You’re driving me to the hospital if I break something.”

“We’ll go slow- baby steps. Nothing’s going to break. It’ll be fun, I promise.” You reached over and took his hands, pulling him up from the bench. “Now just steady yourself. It’s all about balance.”

The two of you held hands as you made your way to the rink. You stepped onto the ice gracefully, Spencer tottering on behind you. He clutched your hand as though he were afraid to let go. One small shaky glide at a time, you made your way across the ice.

After several unsteady laps around the rink, Spencer slowly gained speed on his skates. “This is _fun._ ”

“Told you so,” you sang back, beaming at him.

He finally dared to let go of your hand, lifting both of his arms up. He mimicked a flying bird as he continued skating, wobbling much less than he had just a few laps ago. Damn genius could pick up anything. It was one of those things that you would hate about him if you didn’t love him so goddamn much.

You watched him with a grin, your eyes widening when he missed the turn and hit the wall with a thud. So much for genius. You skated over, skidding to a stop beside him. “Spence, you okay?”

He stared up at you, flakes of ice sticking to his eyelashes. “I fell.”

“Yes you did, silly. Are you hurt?”

Spencer glanced down at his wet clothes, seeming to take inventory of any possible injury. “Surprisingly, no. Just cold.”

“You want to go change?” You crouched down next to him before wiping the ice off of his cheek.

He shook his head vehemently. “Let’s keep going.”

“ _Ha!_ I knew you would like it, you stubborn man.” You pressed a kiss to his red nose before grabbing his hands and pulling him up. “You’re adorable.”

Many more laps and falls later, you were both exhausted. You laid down on the ice, Spencer balking at your movement for a fleeting instance before giving in and laying beside you. His hand found yours and you squeezed it reflexively.

Snow had begun to fall lightly and Spencer watched as you attempted to catch the flakes on your tongue. You felt his eyes on you and turned your head to look at him, brushing a snowflake off of his eyebrow before speaking. “I could die right now. I’m just… happy.”

“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” Spencer grinned at you coyly.

“Damn, Spence. Have you been doing your research? It’s like pulling teeth to get you to watch anything that came out after the twentieth century.”

“On our first date you told me it was one of your favorite movies. I’m sorry it took me so long to watch it. Aside from the numerous logistical improbabilities, it was quite good.”

You pushed yourself up on one arm, leaning closer to him. “I want to be upset that you watched it without me, but I think I might be too damn moved.”

“I watched it when you were in the hospital,” he whispered, a look of sorrow darting across his face. “It made me feel like you were still with me.”

“Oh, angel.” You let out a sigh, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “I _am_ still with you. Always.”

Spencer suddenly flashed you a huge smile, his face lighting up. “You know what?”

“No, but I have a feeling that you’re going tell me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am here, right now. And not just now as in this current moment. Now as in every one that I get to spend with you. I think Joel might have been onto something.”

You blinked at him with wide eyes before kissing him suddenly, evoking a startled squeal. You could feel him grinning against your lips as you ran your hands through his frost-covered hair. Somehow, through all of the pain and the suffering, the tears and the sadness, you had found your way here. Something exquisite had aligned to give you this moment, to give you this life.

“You, Spencer Reid, are the love of my whole damn life.”

* * *

_“Forever is composed of nows.”_   
_-Emily Dickinson_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter.... I'm not ready for this to end. I hope you all know I read and appreciate each and every one of your comments <3

Things had changed since that weekend at the cabin. They had changed for the better- for the best, really. It was as though that startling realization that you loved Spencer, that maybe you had  _ always  _ loved him, helped guide you back to where you came from. It was hard to explain, maybe even impossible. You didn’t even bother to try. You just accepted it, this feeling of contentedness- of rightness.

Spencer continued to spend every possible moment with you, although you wondered when you could return to work. Soon, you thought. If your meetings with Hotch and your mandated counseling were anything to go by, it would be soon. That thought anchored you, the realization that you would be able to go back to your team- to your family. The BAU was more than a job. It was where you belonged, it was who you belonged with.

One quiet afternoon, you were lazing on the loveseat, staring out the window as the clouds drifted by. Soft music played from your record player, the one you had given Spencer for his birthday last year. That quiet memory no longer startled you, but instead grounded you. It was no longer a matter of people telling you that things had happened. You simply knew.

A deeply familiar song started to play, and you snapped out of your hazy daydream at the sound. You shut your eyes, hit with the unwavering memory of a small velvet box, nestled between old college keepsakes. The solidness of the memory shook you and you darted into your bedroom, reaching under your bed with a strange assuredness. Your fingers caught on the cardboard box and you pulled it out. This box you remembered, always, but for some reason you knew there was a new addition inside.

You pulled off the lid and, sure enough, under your college hockey jersey there was a velvet box. There was a small note on top in your loopy handwriting-  _ For my eyes only.  _ If there was one thing you knew about Spencer, it was that even if he did somehow happen upon this box, he would respect your privacy always, even if the curiosity would kill him.

The weight of your last thought sank onto you. You knew Spencer. Like really, truly  _ knew  _ him. More than you knew anything- or anyone. You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the bedspread and breathing in the scent of him. The solid feel of his hand in yours as he led you through a rose garden, the smell of coffee on the steps of the museum on a Saturday afternoon, the luminous smile on his face when Henry had walked into the bullpen dressed up as him for Halloween.

Your eyes shot open. You had seen the photos of Henry and Spencer, of course. JJ had been eager to show you and you could immediately see why. But why could you perfectly picture the way the smile had spread on Spencer’s face as Henry walked in? Your eyes welled up with tears at the thought- no, the memory. You sitting on the edge of Spencer’s desk, feet dangling playfully as he eagerly told you about the Edgar Allan Poe Shadow Puppet Theater that he was taking you to that weekend.

Hot, joyful tears spilled down your cheeks. The gaps in your memory, those lost two years, had been steadily growing smaller since you had first woken up, but now they seemed almost a distant dream.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice shook you out of your reverie and you snapped up to look at him. He stood in the doorway holding a cup of coffee, this beautiful man-  _ your  _ beautiful man, and you started to cry harder. His face looked panicked, and he quickly set the coffee down and sat beside you on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again.

“N-nothing,” you hiccuped. “That’s the thing. Absolutely nothing’s wrong.” You smiled at him through your tears and suddenly you were laughing. Crying and laughing like you would never be able to stop. The sudden certainty of what you had somehow known all along was too much, in the best way possible.

Spencer let out a tentative laugh, concern lacing his voice. “You’re kind of scaring me.”

“I remember you.” He inhaled sharply at your words, unable to control his reactions, but you spoke determinedly. “I remember everything about you. The first day we met- my first day at work. I made a stupid physics pun and you were the only one who laughed. I knew then. I don’t know how, but I just knew. I knew I would love you forever.”

Spencer was crying now, and the two of you stared at each other through your tears before you continued, “I know you, Spencer. The scar on your chin is from when you were five years old. You tripped and fell on the corner of your coffee table. The scar on your left leg is from when you were shot defending Doctor Barton because you are a good, selfless man. You’re also a fucking idiot sometimes, but that’s just one of the things that makes me love you more.”

You reached behind you into the cardboard box, fingers wrapping around the small velvet box. You turned back to him and his eyes flickered to your hands, his mouth dropping open. He whispered your name, another tear sliding down his cheek.

“I bought this a week before the accident,” you choked out, turning it in your hands. “I had known for a long time- for forever, it felt like. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You opened the box, revealing a simple silver band with the words  _ More than Love _ engraved inside. “Spence- will you marry me?”

Spencer let out a quiet whimper, nodding as he beamed at you, his eyes bright. “Yes. A million times yes.”

You reached a hand up to the back of his head, pulling him towards you and kissing him, softly at first and then more fervently as his fingers laced through your hair. You could taste the salty, joyful tears on his lips and you laughed against his mouth. When you pulled away from him, you grabbed the velvet box that had fallen to the floor beside you, plucking the ring from inside. You held his hand in yours, eyes flickering up to look at him as your hands shook. He smiled broadly at you and you slipped the ring onto his finger, laughing again before climbing onto his lap, straddling his hips and wrapping your arms around him. His arms found their way around you and he held you tightly, running his hand through your hair.

You pressed kisses along his jawline, letting out a giggle as the two of you tipped backwards and Spencer landed on his back gracelessly. He tugged you down on top of him, his lips making their way down your neck. When he broke away, you pressed one last kiss to his cheekbone, staring at him with wide eyes. “What is it?”

“Everything is perfect, Spence.  _ You’re  _ perfect. I want to spend every day of my life with you. Even then it still wouldn’t be enough.”

He looped his arms around you, and you rested your head on his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.” You knew exactly what he meant. The feeling of those two lost years was almost like a distant memory. That fear, that gaping emptiness you had felt in the hospital, the indescribable anguish in Spencer’s eyes when you asked him who he was. It was gone. Not just diminished, not just shrinking. Absolutely gone. There was no sane way to explain it, but you just knew.

“I think I would find you in every lifetime.”

* * *

_ “Falling in love is easy. Falling in love with the same person repeatedly is extraordinary.”  
-Crystal Woods _


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...I can't believe it's over! I've been sitting on this one for a while just because I didn't want it to be finished. Hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it <3

How had it only been two months since that moment of such intense loss and confusion? How had you found your way back? Your way home?

You didn’t know. You weren’t sure you would ever know. And that was alright. You had everything you needed. You had a future. A future with Spencer.

Two years ago, you would have barely dared to dream of something like this. The job you had your heart set on, a team that was more like a family, and someone who you loved like no other- and who loved you in return.

Two months ago, you hadn’t even known that you could dream of something like this. You hadn’t known anything. It had been just a vague, hazy image. One that didn’t truly belong to you. One you thought that maybe if you reached out far enough, you might be able to grasp. To your astonishment, you could. And you did.

Now it was yours. Yours and Spencer’s. If you were ecstatic to have found your way back, Spencer was absolutely elated. The joy in his eyes every time he looked at you, every time you knew something without hesitation? It made all of the pain and uncertainty worth it. It made everything worth it.

Now you found yourself outside of Rossi’s house with Spencer, savoring the last quiet moment before you entered. It was New Year’s Eve. The perfect opportunity to ring out this whirlwind of a year. You could imagine nothing better than celebrating with the people you loved the most on this planet. Besides, who doesn’t love a famous David Rossi party?

It was snowing lightly, and Spencer’s eyes shone at you on the doorstep. You brushed snowflakes from his hair before resting your hand on his cheek. The two of you just stared at one another, grinning ridiculously. Whatever had aligned to get you to this moment, you would be grateful for the rest of your life. You glanced down at the rings on your fingers. “Do we tell them or do we see how long it takes for them to figure it out?”

He answered by pulling you into a quick kiss, and you laughed in surprise against his lips. “I give them ten minutes.”

“Make it five,” you responded before ringing the doorbell. You could hear chatter and laughter coming from behind, and the door opened quickly. Rossi welcomed you and you walked down the long hallway, Spencer’s hand resting lightly on your back.

“My beautiful angels!!” yelled Penelope, running over to you and enveloping you in a hug. “Now the party is really here.”

You glanced at Rossi. “I want whatever she’s having.”

He nodded with a smirk, turning to the kitchen in search of beverages. You and Spencer followed him, spying the rest of the team. They all turned to you, their hellos ranging from standard volume to loud shouts of joy, but their delight was universal. You were struck once again by how absolutely blessed you were to have such a family, one that would stick by you when the worst happened. One that would not be deterred by misfortune, but rather more determined than ever to help you through. You counted your lucky stars for this found family.

You hugged every one of them, each hug warmer than the rest. “It’s so good to see all of you.”

“How are you doing?” JJ asked softly. You smiled at the concern in her voice, realizing you hadn’t had a chance to speak to her for very long since the night you ran out of her house in a panic. How far you had come since that night. It didn’t seem possible. And yet, there you were.

“I’m- I’m really good,” you said. “Beyond good actually. I’m brilliant.”

The team looked at you questioningly, blatantly evaluating your words. Derek eyed you for a minute, and you flashed a wide grin at him. “Do- do you-?” His words trailed off as though he were afraid to hope. You understood. You had been afraid to hope for so long.

“I remember you,” you stated simply. There was a quiet gasp from behind- Penelope, you thought- but you continued speaking. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not like I woke up one day and _poof_ it was all back. But there were pieces there right from the very beginning. They were small at first and they didn’t really feel like mine, if that makes any sense. But they- they’ve come together. It felt like I knew you all from the very beginning, even if I didn’t know it, even if it didn’t make sense. But now, I remember it. I know you. You’re my people.”

You turned around to see that there was not a dry eye in the room, even Spencer. He beamed at you through his tears and you gripped his hand in yours. “Okay, I think we’ve all cried enough for one lifetime. We’ve actually got some news-”

“I fucking knew it!” Emily raised her wineglass and looked pointedly at JJ.

“ _Emily_!” Penelope hissed. “Let her tell us. I wanna hear her say it.”

You laughed and leaned your head on Spencer’s shoulder. “You guys are impossible to surprise. Spence and I- we’re getting married.”

Penelope let out a squeal, jumping up and down. “Yes, yes, yes! That is the best possible sentence I could have ever heard.”

Suddenly you were being hugged by everyone again and you squeezed them even harder as they congratulated the two of you.

“I think you win, Spence. I’d say that was about ten minutes,” you said, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds actually.”

The girls pulled you away to the living room, begging you for the details. You acquiesced, describing the events with a gleam in your eye and a soft smile. “I promise to make sure your bridesmaid dresses aren’t hideous.”

“Honey, you could practically make me wear a burlap sack and I wouldn’t complain. As long as I get to see two of my favorite people get their happily ever after,” Penelope gushed. “You two deserve the best.”

“I already have the best.” You grinned at them, taking a sip from your glass. “I have Spence. And I have all of you. There’s nothing more I could want.”

They let out a collective aw at your sappy words, broad smiles on everyone’s faces.

As it got closer to midnight, the drinks continued to flow, the laughter growing louder as you all enjoyed each other’s company. You couldn’t keep the grin off of your face as you looked around at each person. Here it was. A feeling of completeness that you hadn’t been sure was possible. This was your life, right in front of you. And it was all yours.

Someone had turned on music and you found yourself grabbing Spencer’s hand. “Dance with me.” He set down his drink, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close. You rested your head on his chest, arms looping around his neck. “We need to practice for our wedding,” you whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek.

There was nothing you could think of that would be better than having the rest of your life be like this.

When it was only a few minutes before midnight, you tapped your glass, catching everyone’s attention. “I’m gonna steal our host’s thunder for a second. I just wanted to thank you all for everything. For being there for me these last two months, no matter how hard it was for you. I will never be able to repay you for that. I love you guys,” you stated simply, looking around the room at each person. “This is the best possible way to spend New Year’s Eve.”

“It’s been a hell of a year,” Hotch noted, raising his glass towards you. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we are better people for knowing you. And we are so glad to have you here.”

“Hear, hear!” Rossi toasted as the rest of the team raised their glasses together. You smiled at them, a tear making its way down your cheek as you looked at each person, your heart so full it felt as though it might burst.

“Guys, guys! It’s time!” Penelope called everyone’s attention back to the countdown on the television. You all began to count loudly as you grinned at one another.

_“Five!”_

_“Four!”_

_“Three!”_

_“Two!”_

_“One!”_

_“Happy New Year!”_

There was a collective cheer as Derek popped open a bottle of champagne, Penelope tossing confetti into the air. You turned to Spencer, kissing him deeply with not a care in the world that your team was all right beside you. Confetti landed in his hair and you brushed it off with a laugh before kissing him again as you held each other tightly.

“Ow ow, Pretty Boy _get it_!” Derek hooted, Emily laughing beside him. The two of you broke away from the kiss with a chuckle, both of your faces bright red, though your arms remained firmly around one another.

You looked around at the team again, delighting in the absolute joy on everyone’s faces as they raised their champagne glasses and embraced one another. You were exactly where you should be, with exactly the people you should be with. You couldn’t believe that so much could happen in so little time. You had lost everything you had known, and somehow, by some miracle, you had found it again. It was as if it was meant to be.

Spencer pressed a kiss to your cheek and you beamed at one another. “So,” you whispered above the din of the room, the joyful sounds of your family.

“So,” he echoed back to you.

“Now what?”

Spencer tugged you towards him, his lips meeting yours once more. “Now everything.”

* * *

_“I can't believe this is me. I can't quite articulate the sweetness of that feeling. It's finding out the door you were banging on is finally unlocked. Maybe it was unlocked the whole time.”  
-Becky Albertalli _


End file.
